Kids for a Day
by SpeckintheUniverse
Summary: Jace and Clary have an...eventful spontaneous lunch date away from the demon slaying they normally do. They are taken through a rollercoaster ride of emotions, too.


**Kids for the Day**

**A/N: This is a fluffy one-shot where Jace and Clary have the day to themselves in-between all the demon-slaying they normally do, needing a bit of a light muck around day for once.**

The drooping flowers lay on the tiny table along with the bland looking creamy chicken dish Clary had ordered. She frowned into her bowl of disappointment, as the grumpy and pierced waitress dumped it violently onto the bench Clary had reserved for Jace and herself. The other Shadowhunters were back at the Institute today with an 'assignment' they were taking care of, and had insisted that Clary and Jace, practically sleepless since who knew when, take the day to unwind. They still had to be ready to re-join the potential action at the slightest notice, but she had seized the rare opportunity to surprise Jace with a lunch date, and some bright flowers she had deliberated over for what felt like eons. It would be fun to reverse the buyer of flowers in the relationship, she'd thought.

Except the 'nice lunch out' was taking a turn for the worst: the flowers, though bright, were more suited for that great aunt nobody particularly liked. Her shoulders slumped as she saw Jace suspiciously eyeing the lumps coated in sauce by the edge of his plate. The interior decorating would have been sharp and tasteful, had it been the 1960's. She knew she shouldn't have trusted Alec to recommend a restaurant, Clary thought, making a mental note to pay him out for this later on.

There was an awkward silence as the she and Jace apprehensively prodded their lunch, grateful to find that nothing sprang to life under closer inspection. "Look Clary," Jace started, "I appreciate this was a nice thing to do, having lunch together instead of being sprayed with blood and guts, but I must also acknowledge that I am not a blind, denture-deprived pensioner. That seems to be the reason this place is still doing business: the customers are too old and blind to know a clump of pasta, from well, a clump of something else. And we are neither blind nor terribly old, so how about we make a run for it, eh? You and me against the staring oldies."

Speaking of, Clary noticed, there _were_ several elderly ladies shooting disapproving looks at them, the source of all the noise. She was letting go of her tragic attempt at a romantic date already. "Alright," she sighed melodramatically through an obvious smirk, "let's get outta here." And abandoning wilted flowers and suspicious entrees alike, the couple leapt up, hand in hand, and sprinted away.

* * *

Sun was beating down on the park where Clary and Jace now found themselves, Clary leaning into Jace's broad, muscular frame as the pair shared a half-melted chocolate bar. Her wild, carroty hair was being flung around in the wind but she looked up through the tangles to admire Jace's liquid gold eyes catching at the rays of light.

"Now _this_," sighed Jace, "Is more like it!" He smiled down at Clary, who couldn't pull herself from her trance of admiration fast enough. "What were you looking at?" he asked quizzically, crumpling the chocolate wrapper stealthy in his pocket. "Just something beautiful," she replied, cringing, but sticking to her response. Jace laughed at her serious tone and playfully pushed her away. "That," Jace said around a mouthful of confectionary goodness, "Was the best lunch I have _ever_ had! No washing up necessary!" "As opposed to the zero washing up we'd have had to do at the restaurant?" Clary suggested, eyebrow raised.

"Speak for yourself!" Jace said smugly. "I am after all, a _very _charitable guy."

"Is that so?" Clary smirked, leaning in closer. Simultaneously Jace pulled away. "Well it's why I'm stuck dating you!" he yelled as he sprinted away from Clary's inevitable wrath.

As Jace ran, a gust of wind swept out of nowhere, stealing the chocolate wrapper in his pocket, leaving him to fumble blindly around the grass for it, hair whipped into his face.

Clary watched as his spindly legs manoeuvred the pot holes and hills, onlookers stared in disbelief at the spritely golden boy. She chuckled to herself and jogged after Jace, arriving at the park's pathetic excuse of a fountain. Several scavenger birds picked through overloaded bins, and parents watched as a group of toddlers drew primitive scribbles with chalk on the pavement, their tiny fingers gripping tight and chubby faces creased with concentration.

Jace was lying, arms propped up, in a patch of shade by a bench, lazily waving a fly from his face. _Damn, _Clary thought, _he even swats insects sexily!_

She crouched down next to him. "Hello there, old chap", Jace said, in an attempt to sound gruff and stuck up. "Hello yourself," Clary returned, smiling and lightly punching his shoulder. They both gazed around for a while at the busy young artists at work around them. Jace broke the silence. "What would you say if I told you I needed a black satin top hat to feel complete, and free me from my self-esteem issues? "Self-esteem issues?" Clary repeated incredulously. "Too much self-esteem is still an issue, Clarissa."

Clary, staring into Jace's golden eyes, tried to bite back laughter and failed miserably. She gave up and collapsed into a fit of giggles against his shoulder. "It was the '_Clarissa'_ that did it! Sounded very weird - you never call me Clarissa."

"Not that you're _aware_ of, you mean. You can't remember names you were called in your sleep," corrected Jace self-righteously.

"Because _that _didn't sound creepy at _all,_" said Clary sarcastically.

"Well I must try harder next time," Jace promised, pretending to miss her tone.

Clary groaned in annoyance, sitting closer to look him in the eye. "You know, I do love you Jace. So much." "What a coincidence!" he returned with the same level of sincerity, "I love me too!" Clary sighed melodramatically in mock indifference, lying down on the cool grass and putting her sunglasses on to cover her amusement. Jace, slid down, his head supported by one arm and stared pointedly at the tip of her nose. She could feel his hot, sweet breath tickling her neck, and she bit her lip in an attempt to keep it together.

"Clary Fray, I love you as much, no, _more_ even, than a psycho killer loves stabbing stuff," Jace declared. "Oh, so _romantic," _Clary said, before fake swooning.

But as she fake recovered from her fake swoon, Jace leant down and caught her lips with his, and everything became very _real_. All matters on swooning were forgotten, along with the rest of the world, as on Jace's lips she could still taste remnants of the chocolate they had shared earlier. She pushed herself up, and without breaking the kiss, Clary snaked her arm around Jace's neck and planted a path of kisses, feather light, along his jawline.

But by then she sensed Jace's attention had moved on, and glancing up, saw that she was right. He was looking happily at the children, still absentmindedly drawing on the pavement beside the park's crappy fountain centrepiece, yet upon closer inspection, a solitary tear was making its silent way down his cheek. Clary reached up to wipe it away, and clung tightly to his shoulder, as if to transfer her love to him through physical contact, to have her presence speak louder than an arrangement of words ever could. She waited silently under the rustling trees for him to gather his thoughts.

"Is it wrong to be jealous of a child?" Jace sounded pained.

"If it's of the kid's latest toy car, then I'd say yes," Clary said, instantly regretting her words and wanting to slap herself.

Jace, however, didn't feel in the mood to correct her. "See their parents, they've been waiting at this godforsaken park for the last hour, maybe more, probably about to resort to cannibalism out of boredom, for the sake of their children. The kids are getting a kick out of it, and so the parents will put up with anything, anything for them. And when the kids are in their teens, and everyone is a problem that gets in the way, their parents will take it, they'll take all the crap, Clary, because parents stick by their kids. That's what they do."

"Well that's a bit of a generalisation-" Clary began.

"Because you know what parents _don't _do Clary? What _isn't_ in a parent's job description?" Jace's voice rises, his eyes livid. "To _hate _your child, to make them fear you with every fibre of their tiny being. And to teach them to hate, instead of to love."

Jace's slender fingers shook in their grip of Clary's shoulder. She didn't know what to do, so she just kept holding on to him with all her might. The sudden hate she felt for Valentine was uncontrollable, that he could deprive Jace of his childhood and his family, and even now, nowhere near, he was still doing damage to the beautiful creature before her. Jace's face was now a steady stream of tears, and his voice was warped by the choking sadness that filled him as he continued.

"That is why I am jealous, Clary. I missed out, and they didn't. You didn't. I think that's partly why I was so cold towards you when we met: my jealousy, that you actually had someone to miss and worry about, prevented me from seeing you."

"And also your gorgeous hair got in the way of that too," Clary chuckled, drying Jace's tears and sensing his bad mood was over.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, curled into her like the child that needed comforting all those years ago.

"Don't be," Clary returns, stroking his golden hair, "Don't be."

* * *

A little while later, Jace lay in Clary's lap, wearing her sunglasses because she told him they brought out the shape of his cheek bones. He was nearly asleep when Clary asked. "Jace, would you still love me, if you woke up one day, and found yourself lying next to a caterpillar?"

"Oooh _kinky_! I like it!" Jace offers as his answer.

Clary's palm slapped her forehead. "But really, would you?"

"Well, despite it being the complete opposite of the normal metamorphosis, and you being little better than a common parasite, yes, I still would love you, because I would just remember the butterfly you had once been…And promptly squash you mercilessly to death," Jace finished.

"Glad I can always count on you for a serious answer," Clary said sarcastically, pushing him off her lap and sitting up properly.

"That would imply there had been an adequately deserving serious _question _beforehand, which there was not," Jace smirked. "Anyway, I have a dare for you."

"No, no, no a million times no," Clary answers. She has just about gotten emotional whip lash from the contrasting changes of topic on their date, and she _certainly _didn't need one of Jace's stupid dares. They were guaranteed to end badly.

"What! Just because that one time I didn't know that honey doesn't go well in hair! Who _does_ know that?!" Jace was outraged. "All I want you to do, is approach that old Asian man on the bench over there, ask for his hand in marriage and promise your eternal love! That's _it_!"

Clary didn't have the heart to say no after the afternoon he'd had, but in order for the dare to be worthwhile, she knew she had to keep up the act of being won over. So she did, finally showing submission to the craziness. She walked casually to the park bench where a wise looking Asian man clutched at his walking stick, staring insightfully at the ducks playing in the fountain. He was squinting quite a fair bit, so Clary hoped that should the situation arise, in the future he would not recognise her as the devoted lover from the park.

"Excuse me, sir?" The man craned his neck to look at Clary, seeming to not have noticed her until that second. "I, um, knew the second I saw you, erm, today, that you would be the one for me, I have loved you so deeply for…..so long," she finished awkwardly.

"Please move, boy, to the left a bit so the sun isn't in my eyes so much," were the first words her potential lover spoke.

"Well, yes, of course," Clary stammered, "But first I have to ask you…..are very important question." She was doing her best to ignore the fact that the old man thought she was a _he,_ as she was already trying too hard to stifle giggles. And it didn't exactly help that Jace was next to the tree that was behind the bench nearly crapping himself with glee. She cleared her throat and did her best to ignore him. "Please, kind sir, would you do me the honour of becoming my loving husband? I would love you more and more til my dying day and even more after that."

The old man deliberated for a bit, before answering. "Little boy, I am sorry, for you seem very sweet, but alas, I am opposed to same sex marriage. And I intend to stay that way." He then went back to staring at the ducks, leaving a rejected Clary to return, defeated, to a laughing Jace. His face was entirely red as Clary grumpily sat back down with him. She refused to look at him, but secretly, she was just relived to see him smile again, even more glad to be the reason why. Even if it was via a wrinklly Asian duck watcher opposed to gay marriage.

"Dearest darling, Clarissa Fray," started Jace.

"Yes."

"I have a special question to ask you."

"Yes Jace."

"Would you please do me-"

"Hells yes!" Clary laughed and added an exaggerated saucy wink. "I would _love_ to do you, Jace Wayland!"

Jace put a finger to his lips to silence her, eyes dead serious. "Would you please do me the imponderable joy-"

'Yes Jace."

"The imponderable joy of, if you would be so obliged-"

"Yes Jace."

"To pass me, your glorious sunglasses."

Clary sighed and pushed her sunglasses the 5 centimetres they needed to reach Jace's outreached, mock-desperate hand. "Shall we?" she asked, extending her arm, now that he was appropriately kitted up.

"We shall." Jace linked his arm through hers and they left the park, and all its happenings, behind them.

* * *

**A/N: Please rate and review! I need motivation to keep writing :)**


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